Ash's Present
by Maxwell's Daemon
Summary: A day in the life of a mage who has managed to get himself into a precarious position.  Is his gift salvation, damnation or a bit of both?


**Author's Note**: I usually don't write things which are so short, but I do like this and there are other, companion pieces which I may post in the future. This story was conceived in 2002 and set in the nineties. My, how time flies.

**------------------------------------------------**

The day had begun like most others - most others in the service of an immortal bloodsucker, that is. I headed to the museum Michaelson wanted me to check out and gave it a quick once-over. Pretty dull place, magically speaking. There wasn't much in the way of a resonance to it, and there was nothing blatantly magical about it. I made a mental list of which portals needed to be warded if Michaelson wanted this place secure. I wandered the upper floors and looked at the building layout, figuring which places would be the best for secluded meeting rooms and the like. Security wasn't really my forté, but I had a good mind for such things and a lot of it was common sense.

My tour complete, I returned to the ground floor to exit the building and met Danielle there. She'd been waiting for me, it seemed, and would accompany me as I delievered my report to Michaelson. I resisted the many urges to embrace, her, kiss her or display any affection so publicly, but I sorely wanted to.

Danielle was a pretty thing, with smooth, flawless, pale skin and fair hair that contrasted nicely with her red lips and dark eyes. Her hair was up, now, but fell past her shoulders when loose. She wore conservative business attire, complete with navy blue jacket and skirt. She wore a pressed, white shirt underneath the jacket. Her glasses had a way of making her appear elegantly beautiful, and I had always thought that of her, even before I had become so infatuated.

It was much different than anything I'd ever felt with Kitty, this desire. That had been so slow, the culmination of so many months spent working and learning close together which brought us to each other gradually. Like floating downstream on the gentle flow of a creek. This was more like the current of a river, rushing me to the inevitable destination as I struggled to keep my head above water. But to where was I rushing and what would I find when I got there?

These thoughts swam through my head as we were conducted to the club; as I sat here entranced by this beautiful corpse beside me. She seemed not to notice my fit of introspection, chatting about something which concerned parties and other vampires and somesuch. Nothing terribly interesting, no doubt. I smiled and nodded as if I could be a participant in whatever she prattled on about, but I began to wonder if I was making wise decisions affecting my future. I had long since resolved to cherish my life and cease my thoughts on suicide, but hadn't I undertaken a course of action which was rather self-destructive?

My reverie was interrupted by our arrival at the club. I made an effort to refocus my mind to the things at hand. There would be plenty of time to meditate on such things later, but for now I must appear competent and earn my keep as... whatever Michaelson had hired me for in the first place. Danielle and I passed by the doormen unchallenged and rode the elevator to the third floor as a throbbing, techno beat suffused the building around us.

As we stood in the elevator during its slow climb, I gazed lovingly at the object of my affection. For the first time she seemed to notice me and smiled quickly before turning away. Her mannerisms were evidently still human, because I caught the glimpse of emotion on her face before she could turn it away. _Embarrasment_. Why would she be embarassed to be around me? Especially here in the elevator where no one else was around? If it wasn't some sort of public humiliation she feared, perhaps it was something about me. She had seemed reticent the prior evening, as if unsure of herself. There was something here I needed to figure out before I became so hopelessly involved I couldn't think clearly.

The moment passed and we stepped off the elevator. I assumed a businesslike mien, ready to deal with the older vampire. I strode confidently across the hallway and pulled open the large double doors which led into the private office of my new employer, Anson Michaelson.

Michaelson himself appeared to be nothing more than a man in his twenties, with long hair somewhere between blond and brown and engaging brown eyes. He stood just under six feet tall and was rather stocky. His style of dress was most often casual and with his tee-shirts, cargo pants and stubble it would be easy to mistake him for a college student. Easy if there weren't something about him, something so compelling and otherworldly that caused people to stop and stare at him. It had even happened to me the first time. For a minute I had thought I had been enchanted. Once he was out of sight I was able to wonder at the cause, but in his presence it was hard to think about anything but him.

My voice echoed clearly across the large room as I offered salutations and began to report on the condition of the building I had recently surveyed. My sudden entrance had startled Michaelson's guest, though the vampire himself looked as if he'd been expecting me. Though not a conscious decision, my speech stopped abruptly as I slowed from an arrogant swagger to a standstill at the sight before me.

"Ashton, come in," he said, rising to greet me. "I'd like you to meet your new associate, Amber Leigh."

He smiled for a minute as I tried in vain to not look as shocked as I truly was, but then spoke again, "Oh, if you two will excuse me, Danielle and I have some business we need to discuss." He stepped over towards Danielle who had remained in the doorway and turned to close the double doors. "I'll be back shortly," he said in parting.

My eyes hadn't strayed from Amber's, nor had she made any attempts to avoid my gaze, though she did rise from the chair she had been sitting in. We stayed like that for a few seconds after the undead had exited, memories of a time long gone washing over me... and doubtless her as well. We both inhaled and made as if to speak almost at the same moment then stopped, not wanting to interrupt the other. After a half a second of polite confusion she broke the silence rather abruptly, "Ash, I'm really sorry about-"

But I cut her off with a sorrowful smile and a few words she had waited years to hear, "It's okay, Amber." Tears gathered in the corners of her green eyes as I reached for her and kissed her lightly on the forehead. We clung to each other a minute as bitter memories resurfaced. It had been two and a half years since we had parted under such terrible circumstances. I had struggled to bury those parts of me which bore the scars of Kitty's untimely death. The pain and grief had lessened over the years to bearable levels and I could finally understand that our hubris had cost Kitty her life. We were all at fault for what we had done and we all had paid a terrible toll. But it had taught a valuable lesson about the powers we had so casually dealt with and why they must always be respected. It took me most of two years to come to terms with that reality, but by that time I had lost contact with Amber. Yet here she was, dampening my shoulder with her tears.

We both took a step back as it seemed the initial flood of tears were now mostly gone. I stood back and examined the woman Amber had become. She still had straight, copper hair which now fell around her shoulders. Her eyes were still big and green, though they seemed more world-weary and quite tear-streaked at the moment. She had filled out a bit more, making it easier to fill the blouse she wore. Her legs were hidden under a long, tan skirt that ended at her ankles, just short enough to display the hiking boots she wore. Various bits of jewlery and trinkets adorned her, including two charms around her neck and a half dozen bracelets on each arm. She still had the amulet Kitty had given her all those years ago. She seemed to become quite conscious of that fact as I gazed at it, her fingers curling around it protectively.

She broke the silence first. "You look well," she said, sniffing and dabbing at her cheeks with a handkerchief. I was suddenly conscious of the jeans, T-shirt and overcoat I wore. I smiled nonetheless and thanked her, returning the compliment.

Another silent moment passed between us until I said, "So, uh, what brings you here?"

"Anson had said he liked some of the jewelry I made and was interested in commisioning some things, but after I got here he wanted to hire me for my 'extraordinary abilities'. When I asked what sort of 'abilities' he was referring to, he said he had just hired someone who knew magic. So we were discussing details of employment when you walked in. Ash, if I'd known it was you..."

"...you what? Wouldn't have come?" I had no reason to expect anything from her, but for a moment it had felt a lot like old times. Too much to hope for perhaps, but the knowledge that Michaelson had lured this girl here with the idea of paying her for magic was somewhat chilling. Certainly he knew of our relationship because of what I had said to Danielle. Did he search her out in particular, or did he just like her handiwork? Was she some sort of bait in an evil, little game I had yet to understand? Was he giving me an opportunity to tie up a loose end in my life? What _was_ his angle on this?

While these thoughts raced through my mind Amber was shaking her head. "No, no, I would've come right away! Ash, I've wanted to get in touch with you for a while now, I just—" she paused for a minute, her eyes closed, searching for the right words. "I wanted to find you," she was looking at me now, a sorrowful look on her face, "but I wasn't sure you would want to find me. I was afraid you... would still hate me and..." her voice trailed off as her eyes conveyed the pain of her uncertainty.

I took her hands in mine, brought them up to my face and kissed her fingers lightly. I moved my hands away from my face to reveal my most comforting smile. Her smile was more uncertain but hopeful . "I'm glad you came, Amber..." My smile disappeared as I dropped her hands, "...mostly." I turned away as I pondered how best to relate my situation.

"I don't understand," she began, the worry plain in her voice, threatening to drive away the lingering bits of hope.

"What did you think of Michaelson?" I asked quickly. Amber had excellent intuition. I wouldn't exactly take her to Vegas, but if something was amiss with these night critters, she'd pick up on it quickly.

"Anson? He's a really nice guy. Really nice," She stared off into space, remembering impressions she'd felt. "I knew he wanted to talk about more than trinkets, but I didn't think there was anything wrong. I do stuff like this a lot these days. Do you have a reason not to trust him?"

"Not quite, but everything about this is suspicious. I don't think he means me harm, but I can't be objective dealing with him anymore. Did you notice anything unusual about him?"

"He does seem unusally attractive and charismatic. Like more than is right," she said, with a smile, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. "There are Arts that can influence what others think of a person. Is he some sort of warlock or sorceror?"

"I don't think so. But you don't feel anything malevolent from the guy?" I really wanted to pin this down. I personally felt that he'd been open and honest with me so far, but asking Amber here and then conveniently walking off while we caught up was not in the realm of coincidence.

She shook her head, "No. Ash, what's wrong?"

I quickly recounted everything about Anson and I. I even left in most of the parts about Danielle, but Amber knew me too well. She knew which questions to ask and in short order I'd told her everything there was. I tried my best to remember exactly how the conversation about ghouls went and how it started. She was silent for a moment after I revealed that I'd sampled Danielle's inhuman blood. It felt odd, relating my relationship with these creatures to her, and I felt especially guilty for sounding so suspicious of Danielle, but it had to be said. I couldn't let Amber work out a deal with Michaelson without knowing what we were dealing with.

Once I had finished, she paused for a bit, lost in thought. Then, almost suddenly, she looked at me and said, "I can't believe you did that, Ash. You know how dangerous this is."

"I do, but I couldn't _not_ know. He was emphatic about the fact that I should carefully consider what I was doing. It was all my decision, and mine alone."

A wry smile crept across her lips. "What we risk in the pursuit of knowledge. I can't say I blame you, really," she said as she sighed and leaned against the arm of the chair. "What is it like, really?" she asked, her eyes taking on an odd sparkle.

"It's..." I began, then focused on matters at hand. The vampires could be back soon. "Amber, just tell me," I said, taking her hands in mine and looking deeply into her eyes, "that if you do become involved with this that you watch my back. If I get in too deep, I want you there to pull me out. Do whatever you have to, except endanger yourself. In fact, it would be best if you didn't get involved with this at all. Walk away now—"

"I'm a big girl, now, Ash. I can take care of myself. I'll stay with you and help you out. Now that I found you I can't let you go again." A plaintive note had crept into her voice, and I could see the worry in her eyes. We embraced again and I was conscious of the flow of energy around us, and the subtle interactions of our auras as we stood there in each other's arms. All too soon it was over. As we parted I realized we hadn't discussed much history and we had some catching up to do.

I told her how I had gone to school at the local community college for two years before transferring to Lehigh to continue a degree in engineering. I continued my occult studies alone these days and had become quite good at blowing stuff up and summoning spirits. At that last bit we both were silent for a minute, reliving the moments of our last ritual as a group.

Amber told of how she had moved out of her parents' house after graduation and in with a friend of hers. She eventually met up with some girls who were all about goddess worship and such. I snorted derisively. The entire earth-worshipping, girl-power, hippie deal wasn't my thing and she knew it. She gave me a nasty glare, then continued on as if nothing had happened. After a time, her girl-power group brought her into contact with some real witches who practiced real magic. Some of it was like hers, but some could effect different changes entirely. She learned that these women were part of an order of witches called Verbena. She was allowed to join after some sort of initiation — which she offered to describe, despite my plain lack of interest — and had been a practicing member of that society ever since. She had become quite a powerful enchantress and a good healer as well. She was still part of the Blessed Moon Coven and enjoyed no small measure of status therein.

This didn't surprise me, as Amber was very dependant on others in general. She had always liked the way we worked as a group and was stung almost as much by the dissolution of our group as by the terrible circumstances which caused it. Though I wasn't much for tree-hugging misandrists, I was glad she had found someplace to be accepted and loved. She explained that these days she spent a lot of time making trinkets to sell, of both magical and mundane varieties. She studied the Art of Healing and was thinking of pursuing the study of medicine to become a nurse or midwife, perhaps. She still wasn't sure she could approach the study of medicine from a clinical perspective, but she reasoned it was worth a try.

We continued to chat for a bit, catching up on this and that when I heard the elevator doors open outside. In short order the double doors swung open to reveal Michaelson and Danielle. She looked practically pale next to him as she stood there, but that didn't diminish her beauty one whit.

"I'm sorry to have left like that. It took longer than I expected," he said, crossing the room to lean on the front of his great mahogany desk. Danielle followed and stood behind him and to his right, beside the desk. "I trust you've gotten to know each other in my absence?" he asked. His face betrayed nothing, but his eyes smiled knowingly.

Amber looked from Michaelson to me and I nodded, "Uh, yeah, we have."

"Excellent. I trust you have no qualms about working together?" We both shook our heads. "Wonderful!" He even clapped his hands together in delight, though whether real or feigned I didn't know. "Then if the terms are agreeable to you, Ms. Leigh...?" It started a statement and ended a question.

Amber looked at me and smiled warmly. "They are."

"Do you have any questions for me?" he asked.

Amber's smile faded as she looked at the smiling vampire. A quizzical expression crossed her face as she considered for a moment, then asked, "How old are you?"

Michaelson's warm grin became something more feral as he thought on an answer for a moment, then said, "I was born in 1833 in upstate New York. You do the math."

Her face remained passive as she continued, "So you're a vampire, huh?" A slight nod in response. "Have you ever killed anyone?"

His grin was replaced by a more solemn look. "Many." Danielle shifted uneasily in the background. "Are you concerned for your own safety?" he asked of her.

She thought a minute before replying, "Well, yeah. I haven't lived 160 years and I'm kinda fragile. Do you have enemies who might do us harm because we work for you?"

The significance of that 'us' wasn't lost on me and I could see Danielle had noticed too. Doubtless Michaelson had, but it didn't show. He thought about it for a minute then said, "While it is possible, it's doubtful you would be targeted in particular by anyone who could do you significant harm. For the most part, my enemies seek to damage me and my illustrious, immortal associates," he said, smiling at Danielle. "Mere mortals in my employ are not considered valuable enough to waste too much effort on. Our relationship need be nothing more than a business relationship, and that won't earn you much enmity." He paused briefly, as he studied me. "Ashton has agreed to implement security procedures for me and is in a position to be exposed to more dangerous things, but there's no need for you to risk yourself in such a way."

She was silent a moment, thinking. Then a peculiar smile crept across her face. I knew that smile. It was a challenging and confrontational look. "What if I don't believe you? What if I think you're just some schmuck with an overactive imagination who's got money and likes his women pale?"

Danielle bristled at the barb but Michaelson chuckled softly, as if to himself. "It's a moot point. As long as you do what I hired you to do you can hold whatever opinion your little heart desires." It wasn't what she wanted to hear, surely, but the man had a point. And she knew it.

She pondered a minute, then said, "Prove to me you're a vampire."

"Whatever for?" he inquired, his face a mask of innocence.

"If you are, and you can prove it, I'll take the job because I don't know any real vampires and it would prove to be a learning experience. If not, you'll have to find someone else to act as a 'magical consultant.'" She sounded smug. When she sounds smug, she really isn't.

"A 'learning experience?' I don't recall any 'learning experiences' as part of the deal. I'm sure there are plenty of unemployed college kids who could be persuaded to do some research for me if I showed them some Benjamins. In fact there's one standing next to you," he said, looking at me.

"We could exchange information on subcultures..." she began. She was starting to crack. Michaelson wasn't interested in bargaining and he seemed more than willing to walk away from this deal. He knew he had her trapped because of my involvement and could appear less interested than he actually was. I wasn't sure whether this was a savvy ploy or a cunning trap.

"No deal. Girl power and moon worship hold no interest for me, sorry." They considered each other in silence for a moment before he spoke again, "It's the uncertainty you can't stand, isn't it? You _have_ to know one way or another because the truth could never be worse than not knowing." She nodded mutely. "Alright, then. I can sate your curiosity, but you will owe me a small favor in return, repayable in the future and unrelated to anything you will do for me as an employee. Agreed?" Slowly she nodded. He smiled, revealing his fangs.

She grinned and said, "A good make-up artist could do that."

He nodded and addressed me. "Give me your knife, Ashton." I knew what was coming next, but pulled my belt knife out of its sheath and presented the handle to him. He took it and handed it to Amber. "You agree it's a real knife, stainless steel and made in America?" She took the knife, glanced involuntarily at me, then squinted at it a bit and offered it to Michaelson.

"Yeah. It's a knife."

Michaelson removed the long-sleeved, button-down shirt he wore and extended his hand, palm up. "Cut me with it." A small look of uncertainty, then, at his insistence, she pressed the blade against his arm, between the elbow and wrist. She looked up and he nodded. The blade made a small slice on his arm before she pulled it away, satisfied with her work. The blood welled up, dark and red, but just stayed within the confines of the wound, rather than bleeding outwards. Anson looked up at Amber to make sure she was paying attention — hell, _I_ was paying attention. I'd seen it before, but it was still the damnedest thing to watch. He focused on the wound and it closed itself up. In just a few seconds, it was whole again.

"Satisfied?" he asked as he shrugged his shirt on.

"That could be done with magic..." she began, her conviction faltering.

"It's the best I can do short of biting you." It sounded innocuous enough as he said it, but Amber seemed to consider for a moment.

"I doubt that's necessary," I said with a smile, trying to sound nonchalant. I stepped towards her to recover my knife. As she returned my blade I gave her my best look of warning.

"Yeah, that's plenty of proof, I think." she said, slightly shaken.

"Wonderful," Anson said, sounding jovial. "I've arranged a room for you, though you're certainly under no obligation to use it. It's at Sayer Mansion. Ashton will show you the way, as he is also lodged therein. If everything's satisfactory then, you must excuse me as there are matters which require my personal attention," he said, taking a seat at his desk. "I look forward to working with you, Amber. Ashton will show you out." That having been said, Michaelson focused his attention on Danielle and a stack of papers she put before him. With a last longing glance at Danielle, I escorted Amber through the double doors to the elevator.


End file.
